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Chapter 95: I’m Sorry
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Chapter 97: Perhaps
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... l of smoke and frozen bark that clings to the air like the ghost of a long-forgotten fire.
I hate the soft, mournful melody of the wind chimes, rippling through the stillness whenever the breeze brushes against the branches of the old oak tree.
I hate the memories that flicker through my mind the moment I step over the invisible threshold that separates this place from the rest of my world.
I hate that this place used to be my home.
"It’s been a while," I murmur, ...
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